Authors Note: Thanks to my wonderful readers. :)
And thanks so much to Scarlett for beta-ing and listening to me ramble so much. :)
He was almost across the lobby, when he stopped. The scent of rose filled the air very close to him. He heard her voice at the front desk, asking questions and he began walking towards it.
Cerise groaned. Either the old woman didn't know English, or one of them had paid her to stay quiet. Again, she asked the old woman if El and Sands were in the old hotel, still the old woman shook her head and her eyes darted to someone behind Cerise. Cerise turned, finding Sands stepping up to her side. "Sheldon..." She sighed.
Sands grabbed her arm roughly and jerked her towards the front door of the building. Cerise opened her mouth, then closed it, glaring. He dragged her outside and into the alleyway. Pushing her forward, he drew a gun from his shoulder holster. Sands pulled the trigger and heard her yelp. "Jesus, Sheldon!" she snapped. "What in bleedin' hell was that for?!"
Sands drew the gun back slowly but didn't holster it. "The last I knew of you, Stone, you were supposed to have been shot by our gracious host."
"Obviously, you didn't stick around long enough. He got away, before Sammy and Sarah could catch him. He shot the guard that was holding me down."
"And just WHO is he?" Sands demanded.
"Rick Dupre..." Cerise said softly.
Sands stood there very still for a long moment. Then it all clicked. Who else would use his identity? Who else would kidnap his daughter? Who else would even consider using Cerise as a pawn?
"He's trying to frame you for something... I found pages from your file, pages about the Paris Operation."
Sands slowly holstered his weapon. "I heard what he said to you..." Sands said slowly, moving towards her. Cerise leaned against the building, arms around her middle. Sands came to stand very close to her. "He's perfectly crazy, Sheldon. I don't think he would have killed me... but..."
"But he did rape you, didn't he?" When he didn't hear her answer, he knew it was true. Sands sighed and placed a hand on her waist.
"How did you get away?" Sands asked, cocking his head to the side. "Sammy and Sarah actually. They're in Mexico... to bring you back."
Sands snorted. "Figures, just like the Agency. Where are they now?"
"Oh, figuring that it took them at least fifteen minutes to get out of that bathroom, ten more to figure out I'd taken their rental car, another thirty or forty five to get another car, at least an hour to figure out what I figured out...I'd say at least three hours from Mexico City," Cerise answered. Sands and El were in Culiacan.
"Good girl," Sands muttered, leaning into her. Cerise turned towards him, dropping one arm. "No question about if it's really me?" she whispered.
Sands sighed and raised a hand to the back of her head. His fingers sought out the scar on the back of her neck and he lightly traced it. "Who else knows about this..." He murmured. She knew he was right. When it came to identifying marks, he knew hers and she knew his.
He breathed in her scent deeply. "I thought I lost you again..." he breathed.
"Fat chance, you just got me back," she replied tenderly, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I'm not losing you again," Sands told her, kissing her forehead. "There's no way in hell I could survive that reality a third time," he said with a slight grin, but a hint of pain in his voice, for only her ears to hear.
"I barely survived the first time," she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Above them, the clouds broke and a warm rain fell heavy over the world. Sands and Cerise stood, still in each other's arms, just near the entrance of the alley, letting the rain soak them. It was another rare moment of peace. "Four years ago..." Cerise muttered, turning her face up towards the rain. "London, my birthday."
"Let's go, come on." Sands stood in the doorway of the safe house's bedroom, looking at her.
Cerise was sitting on the floor against the bed, going through a spread of files. She looked up at him. "What?"
"Get up, get your shoes on, we're going out," Sands said again, leaning against the frame.
They'd been partners for three years and for Cerise, it was a one sided love affair. Most of the time, she couldn't figure out WHY she'd fallen for this man. He was sarcastic, cynical, not to mention dangerous, and generally enjoyed pissing people off. But then he'd turn around and do things like this and Cerise would have no choice but to fall a little harder for him every time. "Why?" she asked.
Sands gave her a look. "You're what, today? 20, 21?"
She groaned. It was the 16th of December, her birthday."26, thank you."
"Well that only makes you five years younger than me," Sands replied, walking over to her.
Setting his cigarette between his lips, he grabbed her arm, gently but playfully and pulled her to her feet.
"And where are we going?"she asked, stumbling slightly.
"Out, for your birthday. I figure I'll get you unbelievably drunk, screw you and you won't remember a thing."
Cerise wasn't sure what she was really blushing at. The idea of getting drunk (this had nasty repercussions in the past) or the idea of ending up in bed with Sands. Either way, she was blushing a dark rose color and Sands was grinning mischievously.
"I see you can still blush." He was still holding her arm, which brought her close to him.
"Stop it, Jeff," she muttered.
"Aww, what's the matter, Cherry?" Her blush grew at the nickname.
"If you don't stop, I'll resort to your first name," she answered.
"Might have to punish you for it, if you do." Sands winked.
"Sheldon!"
"That's it!" he stated, his other arm wrapped around her hips, scooping her up, and throwing her over his shoulder. She yelped, eyes wide. He carried her out of her room.
"Sands!" she screamed. In the living room, she watched Mac and Sammy stick their head into the hall, to watch.
"What's going on?" Sarah asked, stepping out of the kitchen.
"She's getting punished," Sands answered as if it were no big deal. Cerise watched in horror as everyone looked at one another, confused or silently laughing."
Sands kicked the door to his bedroom open, revealing a room unlike the rest of the guys'. Sands belongings were in order, not thrown all over the place, although there was a joint laying in the ashtray on the bedside table and his black jacket was laying on the floor near the chair.
Sands slammed the door shut with his foot and marched over to the queen size bed. He dropped Cerise down in the center, with a plop and straddled her, trapping her to the bed. She squirmed, looking up at him, green eyes still wide. Sands was grinning down at her like the cat who ate the canary. "Punishment," he said simply. Then suddenly he was all over her, fingers tickling every inch of skin he could reach, above and below her clothes.
Cerise screamed, trying to kick, withering under him as he tickled her, but he didn't stop. She was caught between a case of the giggles and a screaming fit as he mercilessly attacked her. Sands watched her as he tickled her, grinning broadly. He was enjoying this.
Outside in the hall, Sammy and Mac were standing outside Sands' door, listening. Sarah stood at the start of the hall, with her hand over her mouth, staring widely at it. Mac laughed softly and moved over to Sarah. "Don't worry, luv. He's not gonna hurt her."
"No, that's not what I'm worried about. It's what she's gonna do to him," Sarah said, turning her eyes to Mac.
Sammy laughed, grabbing Sarah's hand and pulling her close. "Whatever she does, I hope she does it while he's got her out tonight."
"He's taking her out?" Mac asked.
Sammy nodded. "For her birthday today."
"And yet he bought her roses the day before yesterday..." Mac shook her head. "For a man who claims he's not in love, he's certainly acting as if he is..." She said, leaning against the wall.
"Yeah, he who swore he'd never fall for his partner," Sammy muttered.
"He who swore he wasn't ever going to end up in another relationship..." Sarah added.
"I give them two more months," Mac said with a nod.
"And after that?" Sarah asked.
Mac looked at her. "Only six. She can do better then him." Sammy grimaced.
He continued tickling her for at least ten minutes. Until she was gasping for air, her fingers holding on to his T-shirt. Her chest was heaving and he glanced down at it, before looking back at her face to watch another blush creep into her cheeks. "Alright?" he asked, watching her. "Take your medication today?" He asked, actual concern in her voice. To many times he'd had to help give her a dose when they'd be on an operation and pressed for time.
She gave him a look as she gasped for breath. "I've already taken my insulin, yes. Are you going to get off of me?" she demanded.
"Oh I don't know," he said as he leaned down, face close to hers. She swallowed, looking up into his golden brown eyes. Then she shoved him off the bed. But his hands grabbed her waist, pulling her with him, as he fell off the bed and onto the floor. She landed on top of him and punched him hard in the shoulder.
"Let go, Sands!"
"You're right, we've got other plans." He grinned, letting go of her.
She got off him and wobbled. He grabbed her from behind to steady her. She didn't say anything, but the way her shoulders relaxed, it told him she was all right. "Now get your shoes and coat," he told her, slapping her on the ass.
She yelped and turned on him, slapping him across the face lightly, but Sands just grinned. "Oo... sometimes, Sands."
"What happened to Sheldon?" he asked, still grinning.
"I'm reserving the right to use it at a later time," she replied, heading for the door. She yanked it open and watched Mac, Sammy and Sarah scamper away from the hallway. She gave them all a dark look and stalked back towards her room, grabbing her tennis shoes and coat. She watched Sands pulling on his leather jacket as he came into the hall to wait for her.
"Ready?"
She nodded.
They spent the rest of afternoon walking around London, with a storm threatening overhead. Sands said nothing by means of complaining. He didn't intend on it. This was her birthday. Besides, he wanted to be in her company. He had a small idea as to WHY he wanted to be in her company, and it only pissed him off. 'Give in asshole!' A voice screamed. 'You know you want it, and you know you want her!' He ignored the voice.
"I grew up there." She brought him out of his thoughts. She was pointing across the street to a corner. A small bakery and an apartment over top. "Mum owned the bakery shop... we lived in the apartment above," she said softly, her eyes dropping to her feet.
Sands looked at the shop and the apartment above for a long moment, then looked back at Cerise. He could see she was uncomfortable. This only increased when an older man came out and Cerise began trembling. "Well, better than where I lived," he remarked calmly, dryly, to distract her. He turned and walked away, pausing to wait for her. She said nothing, but followed him.
They continued walking and soon climbed the steps of the British Museum. Sands paid for her ticket and they headed into the very quiet, very dark museum. They walked along several rooms, quietly, until Sands couldn't stand the silence anymore. "Well, you certainly know how to celebrate a birthday."
She laugh dryly and he looked down at her. "London wasn't the place I wanted to spend it," she said softly, stopping at a case of Egyptian jewelry. Sands sighed quietly, sliding behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
She tensed at first, but relaxed after a few moments. It wasn't the first time he'd showed her such attention, but they weren't exactly a couple. They were partners. "Sorry about last night.." he said softly.
She shrugged. "Happens." Last night had been an argument, about her safety.
"Tell me why you don't like London," He said softly.
"Why?" she asked bitterly. "Because my childhood was shit. Because I spent fourteen years being raped daily by my father."
Sands hadn't expected to hear that. He closed his eyes a moment, swallowing back the anger. The idea that someone did this to her for such a long time... now he knew where her nightmares came from. Now he knew what he felt for her. "I'm sorry, Cherry," he said quietly, feeling her trembling beneath his arms. He rested his cheek against her hair.
"Why don't you love me?" she asked suddenly, pulling out of his arms and turning. There were tears in those dark eyes.
"Cerise..." Sands spoke slowly. "We've been through this."
"No, I want to know the truth!"
Sands stared at her for a long moment. "Cerise, can we please..." He didn't get a chance to finish, she shoved past him, leaving the room. Sands groaned and glared after her, before turning and following. "Cherry!" He caught her on the stairs leading back down towards the main doors.
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her back around to face him. She looked up at him, silent tears running down her cheeks. "I'm getting out of the Company," she said suddenly.
Sands looked at her. "Why?" he asked, clearly confused.
"Because I can't do this anymore." she whispered.
"Do what?" He looked into her eyes and almost regretted it.
"You don't get it, do you Sheldon?!"she mumbled. "You don't get that I really AM in love with you, not just fucking with your emotions!" she cried.
Sands grimaced and followed her outside. He grabbed her arm again, this time, pulling her close and capturing her mouth and kissing her hard. Her eyes had widened but she didn't pull back. Above them, a cold rain broke.
They were soaked in no time. Sands pulled back from the kiss to look up at the sky. He looked back down at her, rain drops dripping off his nose. "Cerise," he said gently, watching her. She looked up at him silently. "Cherry, sweets, I do care about you. It's just... taken me awhile to realize that."
He heard her sigh. "I want to hear you say I love you," she whispered. "I NEED to hear you say that, Sheldon. Don't you understand? I feel so lost right now. I'm afraid of falling and no one being there to catch me. If no one's there to catch me..." She looked at him, crying silently.
Sands brushed the hair back from her face, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "I love you." He meant each word so strongly he couldn't help but repeat it. "I love you, Cerise." He didn't remember when he'd felt this way before, and damn it! He didn't want to lose this feeling. He didn't want to lose her. "I'll be there to catch you, Cherry, forever."
"Happy birthday, baby," Sands whispered in her ear, kissing her neck. Cerise sighed, leaning in against him. The warm rain was settling into a drizzle, but they'd both been soaked. Sands turned and leaned against the wall, pulling Cerise with him. She leaned against him, watching what little traffic there was in the street.
"What were you doing before we met up again?" she asked him.
"Heading for a drink." Sands stated flatly. "El really put me off. Speaking of El..." He turned his face to her. "Cerise...did you tell him I was blind?" Cerise grimaced.
"It... came up in an argument," she said meekly.
Sands frowned. "Well, he knows now. Charlie told him as well."
"Charlie... where is the kid, Sheldon?"
Sands shrugged. "Haven't seen him since the hotel..." Sands said slowly.
"Neither have I... but I didn't see him when they were escorting us out..." Cerise frowned. "Sheldon, I think you should call Franky..."
Sands frowned but took his cell phone out. A moment later he had the number dialed.
"No answer..." He hung up the cell phone.
Cerise sighed. "Now I wish I hadn't locked Sammy and Sarah in that bathroom."
"Why?" Sands asked.
"Then we could send them on a run to Franky's."
Sands was quiet a moment. "We may still be able to send someone to Franky's..."
"You mean El?" Cerise asked.
"Yeah." Sands turned his face upwards as if looking at the balcony. "Could work... but Franky would probably shoot him." Sands grinned at that and Cerise rolled her eyes, giving him a sigh. "Hey, I can dream, can't I?" Sands replied, still grinning.
"Let's go get that drink, Cowboy."
"Oh yeah..."
They headed across the street to the bar, which was rather empty at the time so they took two stools in the corner of the bar. "Tequila."
"And for the lady?"
"Bols Gin," Cerise answered, eyes on the door. Sands turned towards her. "Gin? GIN?"
"You know I hate tequila," She spit back.
"Yeah, but gin?"
"Sheldon, I'm British. Brits like gin."
"You red coats are fucking strange."
"You almost married this red coat," She retorted as the rbartender brought the drinks over.
"I'd still marry you..." he said from behind his glass.
Cerise looked at him for a long moment, then decided to propose a challenge. "Then put an engagement ring on my finger, Sheldon."
Sands didn't answer, but she could see the thoughtful look on his face. Cerise went back to her drink as she listened to the rain picking up outside. "I've got a room in the hotel," She told Sands after a few minutes.
"I might just bunk with you..." Sands muttered.
"El getting to you?"
"He's too quiet and too nosey," Sands replied. Cerise laughed softly, taking another drink from her glass.
She fell silent. Sands listened to her breathing from his spot. Without a word, she got up and walked over to a back table, where there was no one. Sands grabbed his drink and followed, his fingers running over the chairs. He pulled one close to her and sit down.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly.
"You know I get depressed on my birthday."
He ran his fingers over her arm lightly. "More than that..." he said gently.
She sighed. "I just... I can't forget him touching me..." she breathed.
Sands sighed, sitting his glass down on the table.
"Can I help?"
She shrugged. "I don't know... I don't know if anything will help."
Sands got up from the table, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. He knew this bar, it was one for the tourists, clean and almost American. He led her back to the men's room. She didn't protest. Cerise had a good idea of what was going to happen, but part of her was willing to try. She needed to forget what Rick had done, and more than anything, she wanted Sands to be the one to make her forget.
He pulled her into the bathroom and paused to listen. Then he opened a stall and pulled her into it, slamming and locking the door. He pushed her up against the wall, kissing her passionately. Cerise surrendered, hands on his chest, but the rational part of her mind was screaming. When his hand slipped under her shirt, she began trembling and pushed him away. "I can't, Sheldon. I can't..."
Sands cocked his head to the side. He heard the tears in her voice. "Cherry..." He caressed her neck.
She shoved him away. "I can't! I'm sorry!" She fought with the lock and pushed the door open again, leaving the bathroom in tears.
Sands sighed, listening to her leave. It felt like being in the British Museum again. He followed her out of the bathroom and paused at their table. "Seems your girlfriend didn't want your company," he heard the bartender say.
"Which way did she go?"
"Across the street, into the hotel."
Sands tossed a couple dollars on the bar and left, heading across the street.